


Comfort

by romanticalgirl



Series: Holiday Ficlets 2005 [25]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-24
Updated: 2013-04-24
Packaged: 2017-12-09 08:56:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/772380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Originally posted 11-26-05</p>
    </blockquote>





	Comfort

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted 11-26-05

“Merry fucking Christmas,” Ron kicked the build up of snow then glanced over his shoulder to make sure the door was securely shut behind him and his mum hadn’t heard him. When no retribution reigned down on him, he sighed and kicked the snow again. “Stupid holiday.”

“That’s the spirit.” 

He blushed as Hermione spoke. Turning quickly, he spied her sitting on the porch swing, her legs tucked up under her and one of his mum’s large quilts pulled up to her neck. “Oi, Hermione. What are you doing out here.”

“After the Great Christmas Tree Crash, I thought it best that Crookshanks and I disappear for a bit.” Crookshanks’s head appeared from beneath the quilt just under Hermione’s chin. “Though I maintain it wasn’t his fault that he chased the mouse. You know how he’s been since Scab…Peter Pettigrew.”

“I know.” Ron sighed. “I know.” 

“What brings you out here?” She shook her head, sending Crookshanks back under the covers. “Wearing nothing but a jumper? You want to spend the rest of the holiday sick and in bed?”

“I wouldn’t have to deal with my family then, would I?”

“Just your mum bringing you soup, tea and toast at all hours.” Hermione smiled. “Something tells me that isn’t how you wanted to spend the time.”

“True.” He ran a hand through his shaggy hair. “But how do you celebrate Christmas with all this hanging over our heads like a bloody Dark Mark.” He blew out a frustrated breath. “And Harry…well, he’s in there pretending he’s not desperately in love with Ginny, and she’s pretending she’s not desperately in love with him, and all the pretending’s getting to be a bit much.”

“Yes,” her voice was wry. “It is, isn’t it?”

“And you, you know.”

Her eyebrow shot up as he moved over to sit beside her. “What about me?”

“You’re always so bloody calm. Acting like nothing bothers you at all.”

Hermione laughed. “Me? Calm? Do you not recall the past two weeks of our lives, Ron, where I nearly bashed you over the head in a fit of annoyance?”

“Well, I was being a prat.”

“Yes, you were.” She leaned against him and rested her head on his shoulder. “But I certainly wasn’t calm.”

“Does it bother you, Hermione?”

She pulled her hand free of the quilt and laced her fingers with his. “What, Ron?”

“Everything.”

“Yes. And no.” She tilted her head up and smiled at him as she met his gaze. “I think it might all drive me crazy, and then I remember that I have Harry. And you.”

“And that helps, does it?”

She nodded and kissed him softly, barely brushing her lips against his before settling back beside him and laying her head back on his shoulder. “It certainly does.”


End file.
